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Clearing the Yard

Morning of April 29, 2014. Tuesday.

My wife and I are living in Cubitis seemingly in the present. However, it looks as it did in the early 1970s for the most part until the shorter trip northward.

In my dream, I wake up on Easter in my old bedroom. When I look out the southernmost window (west wall of room) to the north, I notice two cars parked in the driveway and another one parked north to south in the yard near where the three silver oaks had been (but are not in the yard in my dream). I tell my wife about it and we are both really annoyed at this. The people are possibly visitors of the newer people who moved into the house north of us (Harold M's old house) on the other side of the orange grove. A little later, I notice a rusty old car body only (with no chassis to be seen anywhere) blocking the driveway near where it opens out onto Highway Seventeen, oriented south to north. This makes me really aggravated, because it means that in order to walk beyond our house, we would have to walk down into the culvert and out again to get to the wayside of the highway (oddly, I do not consider walking through the neighbor's yard). I say this to my wife.

Later, I go outside and see that there is another junk car (body only, no chassis) also longways blocking another driveway two houses to the south. I wonder what other people are thinking of these other invasive people. I notice that part of the house now actually looks like our present one, which does not seem that unusual at the time; that is, it has the "same" porch and living room at that point, but perpendicular to how it really would be in reality.

After a time, I notice an old (1969?) John Deere tractor heading my way, first noticing it approaching from about four houses south. It has no driver (but travels mostly in an even path) and eventually stops when it crashes with a thud into the southwestern corner of our porch (this is probably a distorted "replay" of when a car crashed into our porch in real life).

A little later, it seems my father is alive and well and living at our address (yet seems only around fifty and fairly muscular - though he was very muscular even in his seventies, when he still sometimes looked to be around his late forties when compared to others). He has some folded papers that he takes out of his left pants pocket which relate to a list of some things (as a receipt) I supposedly bought in 1984 and he seems concerned about all the money I spent but for some reason, I tell him that I did not actually buy any of whatever is in the list, but that it is some sort of "prop" for a stage play or some such. We pick up and arrange some tools in the shed, putting things back where they should be.

We decide to clean up the yard, starting with the tractor and the car body at the end of our driveway. My father somehow effortlessly picks up the John Deere tractor with one hand and arm and I pick up the car body with one hand and arm. It does not seem that unusual that we are doing this. We go north one additional section beyond the neighbor to the north where there is a (fictional) junkyard and place the two items in a pile. The area (same owners?) also seems to serve partly as a lumber company. The owners are walking around and had told us where to put the "junk" and after we set it down, we return to remove the parked cars, which seems a bit "mean", but also amusing. We receive a fairly small payment.

After this, I enjoy some intimate time with three very passive younger copies of my wife in the southern side-yard who are also all dressed identically in yellowish and white (somewhat bridal-looking, but above the knees) formal ruffled dresses, though I can only seem to "work" with two at a time. There are a few other (unknown) people walking around who I mostly ignore. At this point, my dream intensifies into full lucidity (and lasts a fairly long time) and I have the usual concern about what my real body is doing at the time or whether I am uncovered in reality while in my dream. This does not shorten or negate my dream, though. (At least I am not focused on whether or not my real body is sleepwalking in the street during busy traffic during full dream lucidity, as I sometimes do.)

tractor bumps into porch
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